


Mimir's Well

by solarpillar (solarwind)



Category: Ciel: The Last Autumn Story
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarwind/pseuds/solarpillar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After gaining knowledge of another timeline, Octavia Etnas decided to take the matters into her own hands.</p><p>(Warnings are of what is already in the canon and will be alluded to, but this fic proper is actually a happier life AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She drank from the well

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everybody supporting my decision to write this fic, but weren't you a tad too enthusiastic about Krohiten's eventual fate here? (You know who you are.)

“No, it’s not important.”

When she said such words, it was obvious to all humans that it was, indeed, important. Merely that she chose to force her emotions down, to label it as unimportant, as if it could dull the pain.

Octavia has decided to not let it affect her. 

It was another instance of her, after all. She, this Octavia, should merely use the information, and guide the nation right. Guide her own life right. She would not let this man hurt her.

And she would not let the dragon hurt her, either, ignorant as he was. But first, she dealt with the human.

It was the reason Tenial received a letter saying that his marriage with the princess was canceled.

He was disappointed at first. Then he realized that he was safe, and he escaped as far as he could.

It then fell onto January Lightsphere to marry princess Octavia.


	2. and her eyes were lit

Magic, they said, faded at midnight. Be it the dresses of the dancers or selective wall that shielded the city like a bubble, they faded the same. And then smaller spells must be cast, to keep the danger away.

When the bell for the midnight tolled, Daughter was already standing on the roof, field open. Humans raced to cross the gates in time for the curfew, and the sound of music students abandoning their pianos was almost amusing.

Lagging behind was a pair of young man and woman, dashing from the city gate to the school gate.

Beyond the city gate, the nightmares were starting to manifest. Right on time.

Inside the city, people with knives hiding in their coats advanced towards the pair of young man and young woman. Just as expected. If the nobles gave up, they would still send them out of their usual pettiness. 

_Close._

In one command, the gates and doors of the cities closed one after another, right before the nightmares and assassins.

Ropes holding nails and hair link at the gates, tied into firm knots.

Atop the many towers, snipers held up their rifles, ready to keep peace.

Octavia received the two new students personally, as it must be done.

“Welcome to the city of Newton,” she held out her hands, “the stronghold holding the last of human magicians.”

—

When Yvienne escaped from her village, she was wearing her straw hat and favourite dress. No way was she going to marry a man she didn’t love. But that wasn’t important.

She threw away the last of her belongings to hitch a ride. She could still remember every item in that bag. But that wasn’t important.

Aboard the train, she met a young man named January Lightsphere, who was going into the city to meet his fiancee. He didn’t say whom it was, only that they would meet her there, in the city. But that wasn’t important.

The train was stopped by bandits. Some delay. Their leader tired to kill January. But that wasn’t important. Well. It was, but it did not feel important. Not to Yvienne. January himself didn’t seem to mind.

The importance was the tug of something inside Yvienne as two dragons flew by. Something sad and hallow, like the howling of pain in a great hollowness. Important.

Something was beginning to fill up the inside of Yvienne’s heart, something that was left empty since her birth.

The two dragons circled above them, one white and one black, one lizard-like and one serpentine.

Somewhere in the far back of Yvienne’s mind, she wanted to reach and catch the black serpentine dragon, as if it was fragile, as if it would shatter and break and die if she didn’t, and she ought to meet her by a well.

She remembered a phone call in the even further back of her mind.

But the dragons left. The white escaped, while the black headed for the city. Before anyone realized, the train started again.

The bandits left after January’s people came.

But all that Yvienne could think was dragons.

Even as Octavia welcomed her to Newton, she couldn’t help but to look for a young girl with messy black hair and a dragon posing as human, a pink parrot on the shoulder.

—

When January escaped to Newton, he had but a letter from Octavia, a photo attached to the letter, and many wads of cash sewn into his pockets.

He didn’t ask for the wads of cash, but his people insisted that he must bring some, and they sewed his pockets up just to make sure. He wouldn’t be able to bring his belongings, so he should at least bring cash.

The photograph that came with the letter wasn’t of Octavia, but of a young man barely older than him.

 _This is Daughter Etnas_ , Octavia’s message from the back of the photo said, _he is my adopted brother, I think you will like him._

As Octavia welcomed him, all he could think of was that man.

He felt like he had known him from somewhere.

—

Before seeing the city, Yvienne thought she would love it, would dance from joy. 

Once inside the city, she only stared blankly. 

She couldn’t even cry.

She couldn’t find Lariatte at all.


End file.
